


Bitter Taste I

by Crowgirl



Series: Scars Remind Us [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Dean, M/M, Sam Reading a Well-Deserved Riot Act
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:43:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ongoing discussion, and ramifications thereof, between Dean and Castiel about the after-effects of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter Taste I

XXXI.

That night, Sam waits up. He feels a bit like the mother neither of them had, but that doesn’t stop him doing it. It does take him a pot and a half of coffee which ensures that by the time Dean reels through the door at 2am, Sam’s in the perfect mood to chew him out.

Dean fumbles helplessly at the light switch by the door and Sam finally takes pity on him and turns on the bedside light.

‘Oh...hey, Sammy...’ Dean makes an attempt at tossing him a nonchalant salute and nearly jabs himself in the eye. He stumbles on the jamb coming into the room and the door almost hits him in the ass. He lurches forward and glares vaguely back over his shoulder at the door.

‘Good night, huh.’

‘Yeah – yeah, great –’ Dean aims to toss his jacket on his bed and manages to miss, the leather slithering in an untidy pile to the floor.

‘Do you have any _idea_ how much of an asshole you are?’ Sam pushes himself up to sitting.

‘Well, I – what?’ It takes a moment for Dean to get himself on the bed and turn to Sam with a drunken expression of amazement.

‘Oh, Jesus...dude, do up your shirt.’ If there was one more thing Sam _didn’t_ need at this hour of the morning, it’s his brother’s love-bitten nipples.

Dean fumbles at his shirt and finally settles for holding the fronts together with one hand. ‘Had a t-shirt...somewhere...’ He peers about as though the missing garment might be found tucked under a pillow or hanging from a lamp. ‘So...so why’re y’awake, anyway?’ Something seems to strike him and he struggles to sit up straight. ‘S’wrong?’

‘You’re an asshole.’

‘Huh?’

‘Do you notice something missing?’ Sam swings a hand around.

Dean looks blearily around the room and lets his shirt sag open again as he runs a hand over his head. ‘Uh...’

‘Fucking Cas, you moron! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!’

Dean rubs the back of his neck and glowers at him. ‘Gettin’ a really fantastic headache ‘cause you’re fucking _screaming_ at me...th’hell’s wrong with you?’

‘What’s wrong with--’ Sam stops, takes a deep breath, tries to force his shoulders into relaxing. Haranguing Dean hadn’t been the point of this. ‘Dean.’

‘Sam.’ Dean flops back on the bed, arms out wide at his sides.

‘Castiel left. He didn’t say when he’d be back.’

‘M’kay.’

Sam grits his teeth. ‘Do you think that maybe, just maybe, your recent behavior might have something to do with this!’

‘Huh?’

‘Look, I’ve seen you treat girls like shit but they mostly treated you like shit and at least it was fair, so I didn’t say anything. But this – Jesus, Dean, what the hell!’

Dean scowls at the ceiling, closes his eyes. ‘Gonna shut up any time soon, Sammy?’

Sam gets up, crosses to the other bed, and looms over his brother, doing his best to look as sasquatch-like as possible. ‘You are a fucking moron.’

‘Y’keep sayin’ that...’

‘It keeps being true!’ Sam reaches down, grabs Dean’s shoulder, and hauls him back up to a sitting position, ignoring his groan. ‘You don’t want to be with Cas, fine – it’s none of my business--’

‘Then why’re we talkin’?’ Dean blinks muzzily at him.

‘--but I think it’s the latest in your long line of fucking _shit_ decisions, that’s why we’re talking!’

‘Not your call, Sammy...’ Dean twists his shoulder free with surprising ease and turns on his side and slumps into the pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Bitter Taste," Three Days Grace, _Life Starts Now._


End file.
